Mon Pays

I

The city was a pleasant change from the stuffy conference room.

Francis, or to some people privy to this information knew him as France, the nation of love, strolled down the sidewalk. It was half past eight in the evening, and the streets were crowded with civilians, tourists and locals alike. The sky was a dark blue, lit up by glittering diamonds of stars. The city lights glowed with a certain beauty that made everything looked remarkable.

It truly was a beautiful sight to see.

Yet, despite this, the nation cared nothing of it. His thoughts were focused on the meeting that transpired earlier that week. World Meetings were chaotic at best, with rarely any actual problems solved before it descended into chaos.

Of course, the first two days of the week long conference were the calm before the storm, added with a sprinkle of arguments here and there. Then, as the days progressed, with more and more nations visiting the local bar, it became difficult to get anything done. Usually, he did not mind it, as he was always part of the chaos. But at the last day, that one scathing remark made by England...

'Damn that black sheep.' Francis bitterly thought, turning to gaze at the Seine river. The surface of the water reflected the world in its own wavy, distorted way. He took a deep breath as he leaned on the railing, absentmindedly watching the ferries. Seeing how lively Paris, his beloved capital, had always been, it made his worries disappear. He could feel those troublesome thoughts dissipating into nothing.

After a while, the nation stood straight, a soft smile playing on his lips as he walked along the path next to the river, his thoughts wandering again. This time, he couldn't help but lament on the past, remembering how it changed him as a nation. The hundred years war, the French Revolution. His heart ached as he wondered what would happen if certain events had a different outcome.

Would she have survive, and live a long life?

No, he would have never met her if that was the case. Francis shook his head lightly, dispelling the thoughts. He shouldn't tarnish her memory like this, not because of some petty argument. Besides, seeing the end result, how he thrived...

It was enough for him.

"Oof!"

He stumbled a little, reflexively holding the arms of the person he bumped into to stabilise the both of them. The girl, as it turned out, had one hand holding her head and her eyes shut, evidently dizzy. Not a moment later, she shook her head, orange locks swaying with the motion as if to dispel the dizziness.

"My apologies, ma cherie. I didn't mean to bump into you." Ever the better gentleman than Angleterre, that black sheep of Europe, Francis offered his apologies. "Although, I am not sorry to meet such a beautiful lady on this fine night."

To her credit, and his mild disappointment, she did not blush nor comment on his flirting, merely glancing back with a sheepish grin.

"I should be the one to say sorry." The girl said, a hint of Japanese accent in her light tone. She scratched the back of her head, amber eyes glimmering with amusement. "I honestly didn't see you until it's too late."

"But even so, please, accept my apologies." He reached for her hand, kissing the back of it before smiling. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy. it's a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle."

"I-I.." This time, she stuttered and swiftly looked away, a light blush covering her cheeks. Clearing her throat as to compose herself, the girl began her introduction. "My name is Ritsuka Fujimaru, but my friends call me Gudako."

Odd nickname, but he supposed he had heard weirder. What was she doing here alone anyway? "May I ask why is someone such as yourself out here?"

"Well.. See, my friends and I are on a.. vacation. From work.." Ritsuka tilted her head, an odd expression on her face. "And, coincidentally, one of my friends wanted to see the sights here."